


DCU TV & Movieverse Het Ficlets

by Salmon_Pink



Series: DCU TV & Movieverse Ficlets [1]
Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), DCU (Animated), DCU (Movies), Dark Knight Rises (2012), Gotham (TV), Man of Steel (2013), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Community: fan_flashworks, Community: writers_choice, Crossdressing, F/M, Foot Fetish, Pegging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-26
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-02-18 21:52:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2363411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salmon_Pink/pseuds/Salmon_Pink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Assorted DCU television and movie ficlets, all featuring het pairings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sidetracked (Wally/Artemis)

**Author's Note:**

> All ficlets under 500 words, all individually rated. Additional content notes, such as kinks and spoilers, included where necessary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Young Justice_ , Wally/Artemis, rated NC-17. Set before Season Two. Written for [Writer's Choice](http://writers_choice.livejournal.com/), prompt "late".

“You’re going to be late,” Artemis reminds him, looking unimpressed. Her arms are crossed over her chest, which means the oversized football jersey she’s wearing gets tugged up a little, the hem lifting an extra centimetre or two higher on her thighs.

Which is pretty much the exact _opposite_ of an incentive to leave.

She’s right though, Wally has class. But he also has superspeed, so he figures that balances things out.

“Relax, babe,” he grins, grabbing an extra packet of chips from the cupboard. “I’ve got time.”

Artemis shakes her head, her smile exasperated. “You had time half an hour ago. Now you’re pushing it.” She sits on the couch, jersey riding up even _more_ , and Wally means to shove the chips into his backpack, but he’s distracted by the lines of her legs, drops the chips on the floor instead.

She snorts, and he shrugs sheepishly, zips closer.

“I’ve got time,” he says again, dropping to his knees. Her eyes darken as she watches him, thighs fanning apart instinctively to make room for him. “I’ll prove it.”

“If you do, you’ll be _really_ late,” Artemis points out, but she raises her hips when he slides his hands up under the jersey, fingers curling around the waistband of her panties and tugging them down over her ass.

“Former Kid Flash, remember? Being late isn’t going to be an issue,” he gloats.

He drags the underwear down her legs, and she kicks it across the room. “And your uncle, the _actual_ Flash, is late for pretty much everything.”

Wally wrinkles his nose. “Can we not talk about Barry when I’m about to go down on you?” 

Artemis nudges him with her foot, smirking. “You better shut me up, then.”

“Try not to come _too_ fast,” he teases, and she’s laughing when he presses his face between her legs.

God, Wally loves this. Loves her taste, her scent, the impatient rock of her hips. He drags his lips across her folds, noses at her mound, her hands settling in his hair as she rides his tongue. Couch squeaking a little as they move together, and he kisses at her clit over and over, mouth vibrating against it until she’s crying out, thighs locking around his ears.

It’s not the quickest he’s ever gotten her off, but it’s in the top ten.

“Okay, _now_ I’m late,” he admits, pushing up to his feet. He’s also stupidly turned-on, but that’s his own fault. Maybe if he does a quick lap of the state on the way to class, the hormones will fade a little.

Artemis lounges against the cushions, looking flushed and smug as hell, and Wally has the strangest feeling he’s been played.

He makes sure he moves slow enough that she can see him grab her panties from the floor, stuffing them in his pocket. “Souvenir,” he winks, and the last thing he hears before he dashes from the apartment is her blustering his name, voice full of laughter.


	2. Underfoot (Fish/Oswald)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Gotham_ , Fish/Oswald, rated NC-17. Set before _Pilot_. Character spoilers. BDSM. Crossdressing. Foot fetish. Pegging. Written for [Writer's Choice](http://writers_choice.livejournal.com/), prompt "minion".

Fish stares down at him with a look that’s considering, even fond. Oswald smiles up at her, seemingly reverential, but she sees the layers underneath, the _hunger_.

She’s got plenty of subservient minions to do her bidding, but he’s gasping for it, desperate to claw his way up the ladder. Sweetly vicious, ambition with an edge. It’s why she’s kept him so close.

His fingers dig into the underside of her foot, massaging her just as firm as she likes, cradling her ankle across his lap. Fish watches him work, and he shifts under her gaze, his pride making him want to preen, but it’s drowned out by insecurity. He’s always been a mess like that - so full of himself right up until things get nasty, until someone bigger and meaner turns their gaze to him, and then he’s trembling, looking for a way out.

She pushes her heel down between his legs, feels the swell of his crotch, hears his soft little gasp.

Fish tells the people that question the scrawny little creature that devotedly follows her that she’s like a mother to him. Maybe they take that at face value. Maybe they see what she _really_ means.

She’s the kind of mother that loves her boy with whips and kisses. She loves him with slaps to the face and the sugar that comes after. She loves him with leather and stilettos, and he bends so pretty for her. Calls her “mama”. Cries in gratitude when she gives him release. 

There’s nothing maternal about the type of mother she is to her Oswald.

He’s a snivelling thing, his nose perpetually red through the winter, his eyes watery and pale. She presses down a little harder with her foot, and his eyelashes flutter over the permanently dark circles beneath his eyes. 

She’s put him in make-up before, glitter and lipstick. He’d stared at himself in the mirror like a bird, fascinated by his reflection. She’d taken him from behind with a strap-on, so he could watch himself the whole time. He’s never come so fast, before or since.

She’s only done that the once. His pleasure should come from _her_ , not from looking into his own eyes.

She raises her leg, stretched out before her as she reclines in her seat. Presses her toes to his lips, and he opens so readily for her. Sucking greedily, warm and wet, and she smiles, watches the colour rise in pallid cheeks.

There’s potential in him. Maybe even danger. But he’s her boy, and he doesn’t have the strength to stand against her. Not yet.

She’ll keep him underfoot for now. Metaphorically. Literally. Completely.


	3. Indulgenza (Selina/Bruce)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Batman (Nolan Movies)_ , Selina/Bruce, rated PG-13. Set after _The Dark Knight Rises_. Bondage. Written for [Writer's Choice](http://writers_choice.livejournal.com/), prompt "indulgence".

“I can get out of these,” Bruce informs her, and she can hear the raise of an eyebrow in his voice.

“Of course you can, darling,” Selina answers distractedly. She doesn’t glance over at him, no matter what a beautiful picture he makes like that. Naked, skin sun-kissed and glowing bronze in the lamplight, each wrist cuffed to the headboard beside each shoulder.

She likes the way it holds his arms, bent at the elbows, hands raised either side of his head, palms facing her.

It looks like a _surrender_.

She hears the clink of metal against metal, him testing the strength of the cuffs, but she knows they won’t break. She’s made sure her lock-picks, both sets, aren’t within reach of the bed.

Bruce is right, of course, he _can_ still get out of them. But it’ll take him a few minutes, time she’s not planning to give him.

She’s still not looking at him when she eases down the zipper of her dress. She lets the sleeves slip over her arms, fabric sliding slowly down her body until it pools around her stilettos. On such a sultry Italian evening, the air almost stiflingly hot, she hadn’t seen the need to wear anything beneath her dress. 

Bruce makes an appreciative noise and there’s another clink of metal jingling, but she knows he isn’t trying to get _away_.

She stretches leisurely before crossing the room, and she can feel his eyes on her like the caress of fingertips.

“Going to tell me what this is about?” Bruce smirks, and she loves how playful he is with her, how it’s _him_ and not any of the masks he’s ever worn. Wry humour, a dark edge to it that’s so similar to her own, and a sense of fun that she never would have suspected when they first met, but she now cherishes.

It’s taken time. There were nightmares, at first, so many nightmares. He may have left Gotham in search of a second chance, a new life, but the terrors, the fears, they still haunt him.

Selina understands. Even with a clean slate, even with Bruce beside her and the world stretched out before them, she’s had her share of nightmares too.

But not tonight. Tonight she has _plans_.

“This is about indulgence,” she tells him, voice husky and teasing as she kneels beside him on the bed. Swinging her leg over his lap to straddle his thighs, and his gaze is hungry as it sweeps over her body. “ _My_ indulgence. You, my love, are going to lie there…” She leans down, lips brushing barely a millimetre from his mouth. “…And let me do as I please.”

Bruce smiles at her, dark and full of desire. “Whatever you say, Selina.”

She grins at the obedience, digs her nails in a little over the firmness of his chest.

There’ll be no nightmares tonight. He’ll be too worn-out for that by the time she’s through.


	4. Fighting Smart (Lois/Clark)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Man Of Steel_ , Lois/Clark, rated G. Set after _Man Of Steel_. Written for [Fan Flashworks](http://fan-flashworks.livejournal.com/), prompt "fight".

Lois shrugs her shoulders a few times, stretching her arms and cracking her knuckles just to see the way it makes Clark grin. She’s sweaty and flushed, heart pumping and muscles throbbing, while Clark looks completely unruffled, like he’s spent the last hour sat on the couch, not running through drills with her.

She’s used to that by now, but it still makes her want to roll her eyes.

“ _Again_ ,” she says, and Clark’s grin gets wider. All that power, yet he loves the way Lois takes charge, lighting up for the authority in her voice.

He steps behind her, puts an arm over her shoulder. “Okay,” he says, and she takes it a little faster this time but not full-speed. He could easily track her movements if she sped up, but he’s heavier, more solid than any human guy she’s learned to use these moves on. She can take him to the floor like this, she proved that earlier and ended up doubled over with laughter for the surprised way he blinked up at her, but that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be rough on her to do it repeatedly.

She doesn’t want to _hurt_ herself doing this, mostly for the fact that Clark would refuse to ever do it again if she did.

Lois brings her foot down on the inside of his ankle, not hard, still moving slower than normal, simply demonstrating the best place to connect. She bends forward, knees and thighs braced for his weight, although she can feel him lessening it, hovering slightly. Her hands are tight around his wrist and forearm, and she flips him forward over her shoulder, watching him catch himself at the last moment, levitating a few inches above the rug.

She’s shown him how to block and feint, the best ways to throw a punch. It’s not that he can’t fight, of course he can, but he’s never learned the actual technique to it. Too scared of what he could do to an opponent, even in a casual and safe environment, but with Lois it’s different. Clark _trusts_ her.

Zod was proof that Clark can’t simply rely on his strength. Zod was a trained warrior, and Clark managed to defeat him, but it was too damn close. Lois thinks it was through sheer force of will as much as anything. Clark’s admitted, just the once and with his eyes unfocused and worried, that maybe if Zod had spent even a few more hours under the Earth’s sun, Clark might not have been able to take him down.

Zod had strength to rival Clark’s, but also _skill_.

So Lois is determined to help teach Clark those skills.

“Again?” Clark asks, and she realises she’s still holding his arm. Her hand slides over his skin as she lets go, but he reaches for her, tangles their fingers together, looking up at her so warmly.

Lois will do whatever it takes to protect him. “Again,” she agrees with a firm nod.


End file.
